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Bryce nods. “When I was a kid, we had a Rottweiler named Sam. Dad wanted a male, but Mom fell in love with the female she found at the rescue center. We named her Samantha, and Dad called her Sam for short.” He chuckles. “I think he pretended she was a male.”
I clasp his hand, and squeeze. “I wish I could’ve met your parents. If they’re anything like you and your grandmother, I bet they were amazing people.”
“They were the best.”
The dog nudges my hand, and I giggle. “Are you jealous, bud? Don’t you worry. You’ve already claimed the number one spot in my heart.”
Bryce scoffs. “I got bumped to number two by a dog?”
I give his arm a playful shove. “Who says you were number one?”
We drive into town, and I stay with the dog while Bryce runs into the pet shop to buy a collar and leash. He comes out with a matching yellow nylon set, and a yellow bandana.
“Figured he needed to match the inn if he’s going to be our official pet.”
I smile. “Is there anything you don’t put thought into?”
“What do you mean?” He clips the leash onto the collar, making sure it’s loose around his neck.
“It’s the little things you do. The details you don’t miss.”
He brushes it off like it’s nothing, and continues driving down the road. “Chalk it up to me being an athlete. I had to notice everything on the field.”
“I’d love to see you play. Do you have any old tapes?”
He swallows, and his eyebrows dip. “I have tapes.”
I kiss the top of the dog’s head. “Maybe you’ll show us some day.”
“Us? You two are a package deal already.”
The dog barks, and we both laugh.
“You really want to see me play?”
I nod. “I bet you were incredible, just like you are at everything else you do. Cooking, building. You’ve got a lot of talent.”
He stares out the windshield, lost in thought for the rest of the ride.
The visit to the vet goes better than I’d hoped. Our boy is as healthy as he can be in his situation—no fleas or ticks or broken bones. The doctor gives him vaccines and a rabies shot, clips his nails, and he takes it all like a champ while sitting on my lap. We walk out thirty minutes later with food, shampoo, and heartworm medication.
When we get back to the inn, we lead him straight into the bathroom.
Bryce tears his shirt over his head, and heat prickles my skin. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing this man without a shirt on.A sheen of sweat coats his smooth olive skin, bronzed from today’s sun. A dusting of brown hair swirls around his nipples, drawing my attention to a place I’ve never really paid attention to before on a man. But Bryce’s body makes you pay attention. It commands you to take notice, demanding appreciation for the hard work put into it. Mesmerized, I watch the muscles in his stomach ripple and contract as he leads the dog into the glass walk-in shower. His shorts sit low on his hips, accentuating the prominent V-shape of his hip bones that disappear into his waistband.
High-pitched whimpering snaps me back into focus. I squeeze into the shower with my tank and shorts on. “It’s okay, bud. We’re just going to clean you up. We won’t hurt you.” I slide down until I’m sitting on the floor with him. He climbs on top of me when Bryce turns on the shower head, trying to get away from the running water.
I hold him, and stroke his back. “I think this dog thinks he’s the size of a chihuahua.”
Bryce chuckles. “Big dogs always do. Your legs are getting pretty scratched up.”
“It’s okay. He’s calmer when he’s sitting on me like this.”
Bryce crouches down in front of me, and I catch him wince before he covers it up with a joke. “I didn’t build this shower thinking I’d be bathing a hundred-pound dog in here.”
“I can’t believe you helped build all of this. The most I can do is hammer a nail into the wall to hang a picture.”
He squirts shampoo into his palm, and massages it into the dog’s fur. With Bryce’s legs around mine, and my legs around the dog, we shampoo him together.
